


the forest for the trees

by inverse



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, Introspection, M/M, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 07:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inverse/pseuds/inverse
Summary: Sousuke returns home after graduating. Contrary to expectations, it is a welcoming change of pace. Sousuke-centric.





	the forest for the trees

**Author's Note:**

> me before DF ep 5: this is so heavy-handed... how could he be this dead inside  
> me after DF ep 5: no, he IS this dead inside
> 
> most of this was written before i watched the abovementioned episode, so timeline-wise it should take place before the events therein, or some nebulous pocket of time that's somewhere in between. joss me, kyoani!!! joss away!!!!!

Sometimes, in the thick of night, when Sousuke finds himself wanting for sleep, he lies back on his bed with his head pillowed on his arms and gazes at the ceiling, allowing himself to let his mind wander. It is not symptomatic of any particular problem that ails him. He has always been a light sleeper, and the indistinct nature of this activity, he has found, puts him in a meditative state. Before he knows it, he will have drifted away.

Over the years, he has stared at the ceilings of a number of rooms, all of them as indifferent towards him as he is to them – his own bedroom, his dormitory in Tokitsu, the view from the top of the bunk bed he shared with Rin at Samezuka, and back again in his own room on the second storey of his home, the first floor of which houses his family’s humble homegrown diner. Full circle, and back to square one. These days, the view from his own bed has a certain nostalgic quality to it, even though it’s the same patch of off-white plaster he’s staring at. His parents have left his room largely untouched since he left for high school, and the familiarity of his surroundings reminds him of the times he gazed at it as a kid, daydreaming about competing as an athlete in the future and nothing else, the image so vivid in his mind he thought he could see it projected onto the flat of paint. The blues of the water so cool and the enormous crowd so vibrant he couldn’t even remember feeling his pillow on the back of his head.

There is a method to everything. If you can’t sleep, close your eyes again, slow your breathing, and let the darkness envelop you. Think of nothing. If you want to swim better, you have to set goals for yourself. Work harder, train longer, and examine what you’re not doing correctly. Refine your process. If something stands in the way of you and your dreams — take steps to fix it. Analyse the problem, because there is no problem that is unsolvable, only targets that shift according to your immediate priorities, and that exist to be met. And then, if that still doesn’t solve anything, you adjust. You have to acknowledge reality for what it is. And that acknowledgement of reality will guide you towards what is plausible, and what is no longer.

If only things were that easy.

 

*

 

“I’m sorry,” Rin says, after Sousuke’s words sink in. There is a frown of shock over his eyes and the sight of it makes Sousuke’s stomach lurch.

“Don’t be,” Sousuke tells him hastily, turning away and casting his gaze back onto the empty street. What was he expecting? Surely not shame nor disappointment, nor anger at himself for the momentary slip in self-control. Surely not for Rin to tell him that it was mutual. He’s ruined it, it was a misstep, he’s ruined Rin’s plans, everything.

“No, I,” Rin pauses, confused, “this is out of nowhere. I don’t know what to say.”

 _I knew that,_ Sousuke thinks, and keeps it to himself this time.

The team was out celebrating the third-years’ retirement. After the semi-official ceremony had come to a close in the afternoon, they went out for dinner, bugging Rin to treat the entire cohort to an endless supply of diner food. Uozomi and some of the others had secretly brought sparklers along, and after the meal they went to the nearby park overlooking the shore. Amidst the ruckus Rin said he wanted to take a walk; he said he’d had a long day and he was glad everyone was enjoying themselves but the noise was too much, and Sousuke had followed and Momo was making so much noise no one noticed.

It was a lovely night out, cool and windy by late summer standards, the air wet with the remains of a shower that had taken place earlier. Sousuke listened as Rin reflected candidly upon the events that transpired that day, at some point getting teary about having left Samezuka in good hands. The entire speech was embarrassing, overwhelmingly emotional and laughably sincere, in a way that only Rin could have delivered without coming off as pompous or obnoxious. Amidst the serene darkness that surrounded them, with a single-minded impulse that seemed to have ruled his decision-making facilities at the most inappropriate of moments in recent memory – without considering the full range of consequences that could have resulted – he told Rin how he felt. The only upside, he realises now, is that he no longer has to keep this heavy feeling to himself.

“Since when,” Rin asks. He fixes Sousuke with a look that’s more pity and worry than inquisitiveness, and it makes the distance between them feel unbridgeable.

There isn’t an answer to that question. Really, since when? Was it when he realised that he had to swim the relay no matter what? Was it when he felt the impulse to move back to Tottori so he could see Rin before he quit swimming for good? Was it when he pushed himself back in Tokyo, content in the knowledge that they would meet again by virtue of the magnitude of their shared ambition, when he checked his empty letterbox that winter and the next and many seasons onward, disappointed at the lack of correspondence but infinitely patient for the time of their next conversation, when Rin transferred to Iwatobi and, hurt but believing that their rivalry would endure, he made a haughty comment about how Rin had better not let himself fall behind? Making sure that Nanase would compete no matter what. Tutoring Nitori because he saw a glimpse of himself. He couldn’t remember exactly the slice of time that demarcated before and after he became aware of his feelings.

“Recently,” he says instead, which makes things simpler.

He waits for Rin to call his bluff, but it never comes. The conversation seems to have come to a halt, with neither of them able to progress it without getting into the implications. He watches Rin try to sort out all this information, clearly troubled, and decides that he can’t let this revelation destabilise Rin’s frame of mind, especially now that he’s getting ready for bigger things. The damage has been done, but he can try to minimise it.

“I only thought I should come clean with you. If not, I couldn’t say I respected our relationship,” says Sousuke. “You can pretend you didn’t hear anything. Let’s go back — they’re probably wondering where we went.”

As he turns to leave, Rin grabs the sleeve of his t-shirt to hold him back.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he says, resolute, eyes clear. It is the expression that Sousuke likes best on him. “We’ll always be good friends.”

 

*

 

The zelkova that line the lanes of this park are tall and majestic, the canopies weaving to form a dense lattice from which the sunlight peeks through, pinpricks of light dotting the paved walkways. Sousuke’s developed a jogging route over the past few weeks. The place has been redeveloped extensively in the few years since he left, the west end of the park itself given an extension where it links up to the town’s urban centre for easy access to public amenities. From his home, Sousuke jogs about a kilometre or so, then laps the whole park twice, ends up at the exit furthest from his starting point, and rounds his way back.

Moving home has afforded him a certain peace of mind that he never anticipated. There is none of the busy energy of Samezuka, let alone the freneticism that he found at Tokitsu, people pushing ever further on in the name of accomplishment. Graced with an abundance of free time from his decision to take a gap year, the routine keeps him grounded. As he jogs alone and refamiliarises himself with the long forgotten sights, he finds that his mind is more lucid than it has been since he hurt his shoulder. The view of the sea atop a plateau is an appreciation of everything he’s experienced in the past year. A stretch of empty road as far as the eye can see is a contemplation on what he can do going forward.

Rin makes good on his word. Nothing changes between them after Sousuke confesses. Some part of Sousuke wishes it did, for better or for worse, but this single-mindedness of Rin’s, coupled with a sense of unwavering self-belief that seemed to always better the odds, is what so strongly draws Sousuke to him. The other part of him is grateful. Their usual rituals see no transformation; they continue to study and eat and train together and sharing a room somehow becomes even more comfortable after Sousuke’s been honest with him. Rin, unflappable, unmoveable, is as open and heartfelt a friend as he was before. Few are lucky to have such steadfast companionship.

Neither of them go home for Christmas. That cold, warm, frigid December, cold enough for bones to freeze over and sobering enough for Sousuke to realise that he’s almost forgotten how to swim, Rin interrogates him over a meal of hotpot they decide to cook in their dorm room.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have surgery,” he begins, avoiding eye contact as he swirls a slice of pork loin around in the boiling soup. The steam gathers like a cloud and clings to the ceiling.

“I thought we agreed I would help out at my dad’s restaurant and see where things go from there,” Sousuke says, knowing that recovery is a deliberate process and there is no such thing as seeing where things go. He snipes at a large shrimp that’s curled in on itself, a vibrant orange. “Besides, I’ve been going to rehabilitation. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’ve been talking to my old coach,” Rin explains, sending an imploring look his way. “He says he knows a good physiotherapist who has seen cases like yours before. In one case, the patient was back to form within nine months. If you wanted, he could help get in touch.”

Sousuke sighs and jabs at the shrimp. “Don’t worry about me. I told you, whatever I wanted to do with swimming, I’ve already achieved it with you and the team this year. If I get to swim competitively again, that’s a bonus.”

Rin’s hand pauses. The meat overcooks.

“Is it me,” he asks.

“What? No,” Sousuke is quick to deny. His sweater suddenly feels tight around the collar, but he doesn’t think he’s lying, not intentionally at least – examining the topic too closely still induces a knee-jerk reaction of frazzled nerves in him, despite having made a firm decision about his plans in the near future. “Don’t be silly.”

“You say this, but I don’t want you to put a stop to your journey just because you think having swum the relay was enough, because it’s not,” Rin says, exasperated, fishing the meat out of the pot with more force than is necessary and in the process spraying the table with droplets of soup. “That was not the end for you, Sousuke. The relay was and always will be important to me, and I’ll always be happy you chose to do it.” He looks up, and Sousuke is slightly taken aback by how bright and piercing his gaze is. “But I don’t believe that’s all that you should aim for. I just – it’s presumptuous, I’m probably being presumptuous, but I want to be able to swim with you again someday. And maybe for you to be able to do that, you have to look beyond me.”

The rambling is certainly out of character for him. Angrily, and a little embarrassed, he shoves food in his mouth, then goes, “Ugh, this cut of meat tastes too good! I should stop letting you pick out the groceries, I can’t even pretend to be mad at you for more than five seconds.” The display of mock outrage makes Sousuke cough up an involuntary chuckle.

It’s not that simple. Be as it may that Sousuke started out swimming by himself, from the moment they met at Sano SC, with its squeaky linoleum tiles and formica-coated locker doors, Rin had already become part and parcel of why he continued to swim. He preferred to swim and compete alone, sure, but his ambitions had always taken on the shape of a future in which he and Rin were close contemporaries, sharing the same aspirations. In fact it would have been unimaginable that he could compete to the fullest as a professional athlete in a world where Rin didn’t become one; now that the opposite is true, however, that Rin is able to do well in his own capacity is enough for Sousuke. Trying to delineate all these into separate issues as if they have no influence on one another is a fruitless exercise, and Rin will just have to settle for the fact that these concentric circles of thought have always overlapped, and will continue to.

He helps out at the restaurant during dinnertime, when it is busiest. Too many cooks spoil the broth, and besides, his culinary skills, while noteworthy, can’t hold a candle to his father’s and older brother’s; together with his mother, he is in charge of serving, cleaning up, and billing. Daytime is reserved for whatever he wants or needs to do – mostly maintaining his fitness. The hospital and physiotherapy clinic that he visits follow regular business hours, too, so the arrangement works out. Slowly, there has been progress. He sleeps early. Occasionally the workload at the restaurant is so heavy – especially on weekends – that the adrenaline leaves his nerves buzzing for hours afterwards. In the dark, with the streetlights’ gentle candlelit warmth filtering in from behind the curtains, he stares at the ceiling for a good long while, and then falls asleep.

The memory of last Christmas still lingers. The room filled with clouds of steam, drifting towards the bone-white ceiling, the comforting spiciness of dashi, and Rin telling him to move forward by moving on. Only then can they stand shoulder to shoulder, by exchanging that trifling desire of his for a bigger one. In all honesty, he can’t say if he knows if he’s trying his best, or if he really anticipates such a result. That indecisiveness – that state of being caught between hopefulness and dread – makes him feel like he’s in limbo, a situation from which he cannot extricate himself without the passage of time.

 

*

 

“Ah, Yamazaki-senpai!” says Momo, pulling his goggles off as he swims towards the pool’s edge. “You don’t have therapy today?”

“No, we rescheduled for Friday,” Sousuke tells him, managing a wry smile. “I see you worked on your kick like I mentioned last time.”

There is a smattering of greetings from the members around the pool as Nitori spots Sousuke and makes his way towards him. The hall is abuzz with energy, that electric feeling in the air when a large group congregates in the name of shared activity. It’s only been less than two months since Sousuke left Samezuka, but somehow he can’t help but feel that it’s a realm of existence that’s no longer accessible to him, not least in spirit. There’s someplace else out there that he has to seek out now.

“How’s everything going so far?” he asks as Nitori sidles up to him. “I don’t imagine the duties of captain are too strenuous for you.”

Nitori gives him a smile that is somewhere between a grin and a grimace. “To be honest, it’s tough. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to match Rin-senpai or Captain Mikoshiba.” He looks out towards the club with a furrowed brow, then tries to ward the negativity off with a shake of the head. “Well, what matters is that I’m doing my best! With everyone’s help, we’re sure to deliver good results this year as well.”

He hangs around the side of the hall after Nitori returns to practice, mindful not to distract from the proceedings. Some of the underclassmen approach him to catch up; he learns of who’s in the running for the races and who’s being groomed to take part in the relays. He offers advice to those who ask for it and talks cursorily to some of the intimidated freshmen, and whenever somebody asks about his shoulder or what he’s doing at the moment, he gets as honest as he can about it. And then when the crowd inevitably clears, he is left to sit alone at a bench, observing, and the water is clear and enticing even with all those bodies in it and the tang of chlorine hits his nose, alarmingly potent.

“Yamazaki-senpai, do you still keep in touch with Rin-senpai?” Momo asks him later, both overbearing and indignant. “I keep sending him photos of my stag beetles, but he almost never replies! I really don’t think he’s that busy, is he?”

“We send each other letters,” Sousuke explains, careful not to mention the beetles – it always sends Momo into a tangent. “Been doing it since we were kids. Don’t see any reason to discontinue it now. In fact, he just sent me one last week.”

“What? That’s so old-fashioned,” groans Momo, and it makes Sousuke laugh.

Training ends at five p.m. as usual, just like it used to when Sousuke was still at Samezuka. He turns down Nitori’s offer to have dinner, not being able to get away from his daily duties at the restaurant on such short notice anyway, and makes his way to the bus stop right outside of campus. It’s raining, and quite heavily at that; he’d planned to jog his way back home, but now it seems unfeasible. He barely has to wait ten minutes before the bus arrives.

Sitting in the cold interior of the bus, with only his thoughts and the rain washing down the windowpanes to entertain him, his mind inevitably drifts to the topic of what Rin is up to right now. If only he could see how hard the members of the club are working – it’d put a proud smile right on his face. Australia is only one hour ahead of Japan, and no doubt Rin is winding down after training and preparing to rest after a hard day’s work as well. Who has he met today? How is he managing his regimen, and how is he adjusting to the feedback he’s getting? Which swim meet is he aiming for, and how soon is that going to be? He imagines how exciting it must be for Rin, how fulfilling every minute of his time spent awake must be, waiting to welcome all that is glorious. In the distance, the shape of the trees at the park is obscured by the heavy rain, vague blotches of deep green in a Gaussian blur.

“You’re back,” Kazuma greets when he returns to Ichiyama, rinsing some vegetables at the sink. “Dad made some onigiri – have a quick bite before you get started. Hey, think you could handle making the side dishes tonight? Old man Suzuki says he’s gonna swing by later to taste test. I bet him 500 yen mine are tastier.”

“Can’t wait,” Sousuke jokes. He slides the wooden door shut and it muffles the sound of the downpour outside.

 

*

 

_To Rin:_

_It was good to hear from your last letter that you are getting busy in Australia. It’s barely been a month since you left Japan, but I imagine you must have already settled down quite comfortably since it is familiar ground. You mentioned that you were able to meet with several local up-and-comers at the stadium where your coach trains – that’s great news. I have no doubt that the people you meet there will have a significant impact on your growth._

_You might have already heard from Ai or Momo, but I’m helping out at Samezuka when I have the time these days. Think of it as payback, I suppose. Now that I am an alumnus, I feel the obligation to assist in whatever way I can. Besides, there is an unexpected sense of satisfaction from seeing the members grow as athletes, and to continue the work that we put in together last year. The members of the Iwatobi team come by occasionally to train together, by the way. They’ve recruited only two new members, unfortunately – but both are promising._

_I thought I would let you know what I’ve been up to. When you went overseas, I’d only just moved back home. Initially it took some adjusting to – it felt almost too quiet in comparison to the dorms at night, especially after the restaurant closes for business. Now I think I might really enjoy spending time here. I’ve taken to running a lot. Not in the gym like we used to at Samezuka, but actually taking the effort to jog through the town itself. On these jogs, I pass by a lot of the old landmarks that we used to walk past after school. The sight of them is less burdensome than I thought they would be; some part of me was dreading the feeling of being reminded that I am back home, here, instead of doing something I’d really rather be doing. On the contrary, being reminded of how we spent time together in the past seems to have an invigorating effect. Remember that grocery store where we used to buy popsicles after swimming at Sano SC? It’s still there, and business is as good as it used to be._

_I’ve been thinking about what you said back then last Christmas. It echoes a lot of what I’ve heard since coming back, from my own parents and neighbours and family friends, though of course none of them have been privy to our conversation. To be frank – and it is easier to be frank via written communication, somehow – I too am reluctant to give up this easily, though it is all too inviting to settle for the status quo. I too hope that we will be able to swim together again someday. Nobody can say this for sure, but perhaps in the near future, if luck is on my side, there will be good news._

_Till next time. My parents send their regards. I await your reply._

_Sousuke_

**Author's Note:**

> alternative titles:
> 
> sad sourin alexa play future fish  
> what i talk about when i talk about running (my shoulder is a bomb edn.)


End file.
